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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27291076">A Terrifying Affliction</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/CrzA/pseuds/CrzA'>CrzA</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Persona 5</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Apathy, Cuddling &amp; Snuggling, Depression, Despair, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Emotions, Feelings, Gentle Kissing, Injury, M/M, Pre-Relationship, but is it?</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-10-30</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-10-30</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 18:00:34</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>8,137</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27291076</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/CrzA/pseuds/CrzA</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Joker has been inflicted with Despair. The fight may be over, but the suffering follows him out, or at least, Yusuke certainly thinks something is not quite right with Akira.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Kitagawa Yusuke/Kurusu Akira</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>6</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>90</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>A Terrifying Affliction</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Hi hiiii!!! I saw this Shukita Halloween week event on twitter and I really like the prompts there, so I decided to write a little something to participate uwu This sort of goes with day 1's <b>Intimacy + Dancing</b> (around feelings/topics) and day 6's <b>What Lies Beneath + Phantom Thief/Disguise</b></p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Joker!” Futaba’s voice rings in his skull, but it sounds so distant all of a sudden, so strange to his ears, as if he has suddenly fallen into the depths of an abyss, underwater, unable to breathe, unsure how to resurface. “Joker’s been inflicted with despair! Everyone, finish him off quickly!”</p><p>Despair? Is that what this is? Is that why everything feels so heavy, why the world around him feels like it’s about to crash and burn and take him down with it? Everything is so dark, so suffocating. He can’t move. Is there even a point?</p><p>“It’s a critical hit! Someone help him, now!”</p><p>What use is there? This pain is overwhelming. It starts in his chest and it spreads and spreads. It feels as if he is being torn apart, bit by small bit. Just put him out of his misery already. Just end it already. <em>Just let me die.</em></p><p>“Joker! <em>Akira</em>, wake up!”</p><p>His eyes shoot open at the sound of Yusuke’s low demand, the fog clearing from his mind as he slowly sits up from where he was lying on the floor. When did he even fall? Grey eyes stare deeply into his own from behind the fox mask covering most of his face, searching for something Akira isn’t aware of, and he blinks slowly, sucking in a small breath as he becomes more aware of his surroundings.</p><p>“We defeated the Shadow, so he should be fine now.” Futaba says softly, peeking from behind Yusuke with a relieved sigh. “That was a close one though. We should have brought more items with us.”</p><p>Shaking his head slightly, Akira rubs at his temples before lifting himself up, Yusuke’s hands hovering in front of him, ready to offer support should he need it. Luckily, he manages to stand on his own two feet without help. It would be unsightly for the leader of the Phantom Thieves to go down from so little. <em>What a troublesome Shadow, </em>he thinks absently, willing the faint headache trying to form behind his eyes to go away. No healing items and not enough energy for a recovery. It should be fine though, they just need to be more careful on their way out, not let themselves be caught unawares like this time. He feels so tired everything hurts. Just a little longer. Then he can sleep. He can just <em>die</em> to the rest of the world, just for a while.</p><p>“Are you okay? You’re looking a little wobbly.” Ann purses her lips, and Akira puts on his best smile for her.</p><p>“Yeah, just low on health. I’ll be better once we’re back.”</p><p>“We should hurry.” Morgana nods, assuming his car form. “Let’s get out of here. Next time, we’ll be better prepared.”</p><p>“We managed to take care of a few requests though. Overall, I’d say it was a worthwhile day. Good job everyone.” Makoto congratulates them, and the others nod in agreement.</p><p>“Well, let’s not celebrate until we make it back in one piece.” Akira offers in way of a jest, all of them chuckling lightly in response.</p><p>Well, all except for Yusuke, who continues staring intensely, watching him carefully. Akira shifts uncomfortably, an odd itch forming just beneath his skin that makes the weight still in his chest all the more unnerving. He offers him a sheepish smile and a noncommittal shrug, stalking to Morgana’s backseat as Makoto gets behind the wheel.</p><p>The drive up to the exit is thankfully uneventful, Akira’s energy seemingly draining further with each second that passes. He really hopes breathing in some fresh air will help him feel better, rid him of his accumulated aches once they step outside of the cognitive reality, leaving the metaverse and everything that belongs to it behind for the time being.</p><p>Yet the moment they make it outside Shibuya station, Akira’s head spins, his legs giving out from under him and sending him stumbling forwards. He expects to feel the hard concrete scrape the skin off his palms as he braces himself, unable to find his equilibrium in time to prevent the fall altogether. Though he does not quite kiss the ground, pain still shoots through him when he falls into someone’s arms instead, his muscles screaming as he chokes back his own shouts, the sudden agony knocking the breath out of him entirely.</p><p>Yusuke, it seems, helps him stand upright once more, a concerned call of his name drawing Akira’s gaze up to his scrunched features as he tries to gather his bearings, suppressing the shudder that runs down his spine from the tremendous exhaustion taking over him mercilessly.</p><p>“Yo, dude, you alright there?” Ryuji squeezes his shoulder, and Akira forces himself to nod, pushing away from Yusuke in hopes that not relying on his support yet again might convince them.</p><p>“I guess that run took a little more out of me than usual.” He laughs quietly, shoving his hands in his pockets and adjusting his school bag over his shoulder, Morgana’s weight appearing a little more cumbersome than he is accustomed to. “Once I sleep, I’ll be good as new.”</p><p>Out of everyone staring at him strangely, Akira thinks Yusuke looks the least satisfied with his answer, his strained expression betraying his desire to argue. Perhaps sensing the fatigue seeping deep into his bones, however, he keeps his words to himself, merely offering him a polite farewell as they all begin their treks home, each going their separate ways but for him and Futaba. Even with her by his side, the entire journey back to Leblanc is a bit of a blur, his mind adrift as the faceless mob passes him by. The chattering around him is nothing more than background noise, fuzzy in his ears and barely noticeable underneath the loud swooshing of his blood going past them with each dull beat of his heart.</p><p>Akira almost misses it when Futaba bids him a good night once they, too, reach the point where they must part, only knowing to reply once Morgana jabs at the back of his head and the resulting sting violently jolts him back to reality. Swallowing down the anguished groan that forms at his throat, Akira offers Futaba a lopsided grin.</p><p>“Don’t stay online too late.” He pokes her puffed cheeks, huffing out a little amused breath when she sticks her tongue out at him in response before skipping home with her hands behind her back.</p><p>Sojiro greets him on his way in, as per usual, and Akira can only mumble out an unintelligible noise that could potentially pass as a greeting, his body on the verge of shutting down to give him some form of respite from the increasing soreness that is slowly getting harder and harder to ignore. Had Mementos always taken so much out of him before? He should just go to bed already.</p><p>“Aren’t you calling Kawakami tonight?” Morgana asks when he walks right past the phone, and he pauses, eyes flickering to the counter.</p><p>That’s what he usually does, isn’t it?</p><p>He’s so tired, though. Just the thought of talking to anyone else right now is making him want to crumble down to his knees, hold his head in his hands and scream. There is a vague notion in the depths of his subconscious that this feeling isn’t normal, but he doesn’t have the energy to think about it too hard, simply shoving it aside and continuing on his way in, already dreaming of crashing face first into bed.</p><p>“Not tonight.” Akira whispers, the effort it takes for just that beyond draining.</p><p>Morgana’s questioning hum falls on deaf ears as he drops his bag at the entrance to the storage room, grabbing his pyjamas and heading to the bathroom to get changed as quickly as possible. He almost considers foregoing changing altogether, but he has the common sense to do at least that, the discomfort of sleeping in his clothes proving to be enough to put in the necessary effort, one last desperate attempt to convince himself that it might help this overwhelming feeling disappear. But as he peels his uniform off, Akira regrets his decision more and more, the stiffness of his limbs getting worse with each movement.</p><p>Gritting his teeth, Akira pushes through the pain, pulling on his sweats and sliding the soft cotton shirt down over his head, feeling as if he has run an entire marathon once he is done, breaths short and ragged, scratching all the way up his throat. And when he is ready to just drag his feet to bed, a patch of dark skin peeking from beneath his slightly rumpled shirt catches his eye in the mirror. Once again, Akira stops dead in his tracks, the desperate need to just shut down tugging him away from his suspicions.</p><p>His hand moves of its own accord, though, curiosity proving stronger for now, and shifts his shirt further up, just enough for him to see the large bruise crawling up his side from the small of his back. Slowly, he faces the mirror fully, pushing the fabric out of the way and staring at himself in the mirror, his breath catching at the sight before him.</p><p>Cuts akin to claw marks crisscross along his torso, yellow and purple bruises bloom on his pale skin, all of it fresh, painful, and absolutely sickening. He can’t quite remember much of their last fight, but what he can recall is the pain, sparking one place or another, and spreading throughout him. The wounds seem consistent… They should have healed for the most part though. They shouldn’t have been so bad, stuck to him all the way here like this…</p><p>“Shit…” He mutters under his breath, his free hand coming to feel the edges of the injuries, trembling.</p><p>Part of him knows he should be more alarmed, but he can’t bring himself to care about it right now.</p><p>His grip on the shirt loosens, letting it fall back down. Akira shuffles out of the bathroom in a bit of a trance, lying down on the bed and pulling the covers over him, not even hearing whatever Morgana has to say as he does. It will be okay. All he needs to do is sleep. He just needs to sleep <em>forever</em>.</p><p>***</p><p>Yusuke’s brush stubbornly sticks to the paper, his strokes becoming sloppy and uneven, hesitant. With a frustrated huff, he tosses another failed attempt aside, carefully setting his utensils down and wiping the still wet paint off his fingers. Ever since last night, his soul has been restless, and his art is suffering for it, stunted and lifeless. Perhaps he should take a break, focus on some other subject rather than drive himself mad with dissatisfaction, vexed by his own hands’ refusal to cooperate.</p><p>In all honesty, it is his mind that remains preoccupied, filled with images of Akira’s crumpled form as the Shadow attacked him while he was already vulnerable. Despair… what a terrifying affliction, leaving one completely defenceless, unable to see past the darkness engulfing them. Yusuke feels as if he may have known its cold embrace without any of these Shadows thrusting it upon him. Even outside the cognitive world, it can be just as devastating, tearing someone apart from the inside out, corruption bleeding from the soul manifesting in the most damaging of ways.</p><p>When Akira fell to its clutches, Yusuke felt his entire being seize with a panic that threatened to freeze him solid, to the point he wondered if Goemon’s power may have somehow turned against him. But the anger that followed burned away the frost and drove him forwards, the urgency to put an end to Akira’s suffering overshadowing everything else.</p><p>Those few seconds in which he did not move felt like a tortuous eternity. For a moment, Yusuke thought he may have been too late with his final blow, that they had lost their leader, their <em>friend</em> to a monster because he had not been strong enough, fast enough. Though the relief he felt when Akira came to his senses was short lived as well.</p><p>Somehow, he appeared much more shaken than he should have been. Perhaps he was being paranoid, but something felt… off, even when they left Mementos for good. The way he walked seemed strange, his gait unbalanced… And his smile… It wasn’t quite the same; it did not reach his eyes the way it should.</p><p>But maybe he was reading too much into little details, his mind fine-tuned with the faintest intricacies to find clues hidden to the naked eye. The interpretation of an artist creates worlds that would not exist otherwise. It could be nothing more than a wild imagination inventing stories that were nothing more than fiction.</p><p>And yet, his heart still feels as if it has been caught in a vice each time his thoughts drift back to Akira. Yusuke really tries to keep his attention on his work, already behind as it is, but when his phone rings with a new message, he cannot resist the immediate urge to see its contents, hoping to find Akira’s usual jests, his jovial mischief restored.</p><p>Instead, he finds a cryptic question from Haru that only serves to stoke the embers of his worry.</p><p> </p><p>
  <strong>Haru</strong>
</p><p>
  <em>Is Akira with you today?</em>
</p><p> </p><p>Yusuke blinks at the text, trying to uncover a hidden meaning that clearly is not there.</p><p> </p><p>
  <strong>Me</strong>
</p><p>
  <em>I am at the dorms, working. Why do you ask?</em>
</p><p>
  <strong>Haru</strong>
</p><p>
  <em>I sent a message earlier asking if he had some time to spare, but I did not get a reply.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Usually he is kind enough to at least decline as not to leave me wondering…</em>
</p><p>
  <em>I suppose I was worried since Ann mentioned he looked rather morose today in class, and wondered if he had perhaps sought your company instead. He usually smiles when he is around you.</em>
</p><p>
  <strong>Me</strong>
</p><p>
  <em>I see. My apologies, I did not meet him today.</em>
</p><p> </p><p>That could have been the end of it. After all, his work sits not even halfway done—in fact, he suspects he may have made no progress at all—, and surely, Akira has just been busy himself, distracted by something to the point that he may not have yet noticed the messages awaiting him on his phone. And yet, Yusuke finds that hard to believe. When Akira always has his phone on hand, to the point that he often ends up texting during class, when he should be paying attention instead (at times, by the others’ fault, his own included), it seems so unlikely that he wouldn’t have at least seen the messages, the little confirmation that he had at least read offering some sort of reassurance that he was not caught in a complicated situation.</p><p>If only to put his own mind at ease, Yusuke attempts to send Akira a small message as well, trying to ascertain whether he had recovered from yesterday’s trip to Mementos. For as long as he sits here, staring at his phone’s screen, unable to do anything else but wait for the read receipt, the little arrow that should have popped below his message remains elusive.</p><p>Clicking his tongue, he locks his phone once and for all, biting on the inside of his cheek. Yusuke cannot simply turn the other way when faced with such foreboding words from Haru or Akira’s uncertain whereabouts. It should not be so perturbing, yet Yusuke is unable to shake off the unease that has clung to him ever since Akira was struck by that last Shadow. He is certain that his eyes had not deceived him after all.</p><p>Setting everything else aside, Yusuke grabs a jacket from his closet and carefully slides his phone into his jeans’ pocket, slipping out the door unnoticed by his peers, absorbed in their own endeavours and ignorant to the storm brewing in his heart. In truth, he pays them no mind either, going past them without even noticing their presence as he can think of nothing other than Akira, can only see the weary look in his dark eyes when they said their goodbyes the evening before.</p><p>Yusuke finds himself at Shibuya first, the many times they have met at the underground passageway flashing before his eyes when he walks past it, knowing that Akira would not be there waiting for him. A small part of him hopes that he may have decided to go to one of his part-time jobs, attempting the flower shop first. All that greets him there was the intense perfume of fresh flowers and the owner’s gentle smile, welcoming him into the small business with soft words that are no less captivating without the booming enthusiasm of some of the other clerks.</p><p>Offering the young woman a quiet apology when she asks what he would be interested in buying, Yusuke tries to keep the disappointment from showing on his face once he sees no signs of Akira anywhere.</p><p>“By chance, did my friend come into work today? Perhaps I have just missed him…” Yusuke tries anyway, clinging to a hint of hope until her smile turns sheepish.</p><p>“Ah, you mean Kurusu-kun? I’m sorry, he hasn’t come in to work here for a bit. I assume he got busy with his studies. Would you like me to tell him you were looking for him, if he happens to drop by?”</p><p>“That is quite all right. Thank you, and I apologise once again for disturbing you.”</p><p>“It’s no trouble, really.” She assures, returning her attention to a bouquet she had been preparing. “I hope you find him soon.”</p><p>“Me too…” Yusuke whispers more to himself than anything else, turning on his heel and trying elsewhere.</p><p>As he checks the many shops in Central Street, Yusuke grows increasingly aware of the fact that Akira’s social network expands far beyond Shibuya, somehow finding bonds in the most unlikely of places. But deep down, as the convenience store yields yet another similar result to all the places before it, Yusuke knows he won’t find him with any of them. With nowhere else to look, he makes his way to the station once more.</p><p>Sayuri’s nostalgic smile welcomes him along with the scent of warm coffee, yet the comfort he usually finds at Leblanc is nowhere to be found, replaced only by the torment of uncertainty, anxiety coiling in his gut and making him feel nauseated. Astonishingly enough, Yusuke feels no hunger for what feels like the first time in a long while, unsure if he would be able to stomach even Sojiro’s curry.</p><p>“Welcome to Leblanc.” The man in question seems to mumble out of habit, only lifting his gaze from whatever he had been doing once Yusuke is already inside.</p><p>Sojiro eyes him carefully, the bell above the door chiming pleasantly as it closes behind Yusuke, a stark contrast to the cacophony of thoughts swimming inside his head. Yusuke’s eyes immediately drift to the stairs, and Sojiro follows his line of sight, huffing out a breath before giving him a knowing look, gesturing for him to come closer.</p><p>“You’re here to see Akira?”</p><p>“Yes, is he… is he here?” Yusuke swallows thickly, feeling a drop of sweat roll down the back of his neck.</p><p>“He’s upstairs.” Sojiro confirms, but Yusuke feels no relief, not yet. The older man scratches at his beard, humming. “Got back early today. Usually the kid’s out until the last possible moment, causing trouble, no doubt. Somewhat of a nuisance, if you ask me, but…” His features seem to fall slightly then, and Yusuke’s breath catches painfully. “Something happen to him?”</p><p>Averting his gaze to his feet, Yusuke grabs at his elbow, his fingers twitching around the fabric of his jacket. “That is what I came here to find out.”</p><p>“I see.” Sojiro sighs heavily, turning his back to him and stalking into the kitchen for a while, returning with a small tray with some curry and water. “Could you at least take this up to him. He skipped breakfast this morning and I haven’t seen him eat since he arrived either.”</p><p>“Of course.” Yusuke nods respectfully, taking the food from his hands and heading up the stairs.</p><p>He pauses just before he makes it all the way inside, bracing himself for he doesn’t even know what. Sucking in a steadying breath, Yusuke finally reaches the top of the stairs, squinting in the relative darkness of the room, the sunlight already dim enough that it gets hard to see without any lights on.</p><p>Akira is lying curled on his bed, looking a lot smaller than he really is, as if he is trying his best to disappear. The mere thought stabs through him like a knife, twisting in his heart and threatening to destroy it completely. Yusuke cannot even imagine a world without Akira anymore. His life may not be easy after Madarame confessed to his sins, but it has been the fullest he has ever felt. In such a short amount of time, he has made friends he never thought he would get, filling his otherwise bleak days with a joy that painted everything in brighter colours.</p><p>And though he may not have only Akira to thank for the changes he has experienced, it would be hard to deny that, without him coming to Tokyo, none of it would have happened. It is rather curious how one person can have such an incredible impact on so many lives, change them for the better. Yusuke wants to repay Akira’s kindness in full, even if he may very well spend the rest of his days working towards achieving that.</p><p>Why does it feel as if his chances to do so are slimming with each painful beat of his heart, watching as darkness appears to submerge him?</p><p>“Oi, Akira… If you’re just gonna lie there, at least change out of your uniform…” Morgana says softly, his tone dripping with concern as he pokes at Akira’s head with a paw and gets no reaction whatsoever.</p><p>Akira just lies there, unmoving, and in the room’s poor lighting, it almost seems as if he is not breathing at all, Yusuke’s grip on the tray faltering at the possibility. The rattle of the plate draws Morgana’s attention to him, a surprised call of his name bouncing off the walls that seems to rouse Akira once and for all. He snaps to a sitting position, propping himself up on his hands as he turns around to face Yusuke, eyes widening slightly.</p><p>“What are you doing here?” Akira asks, his voice hoarse and scratchy, as if he has barely spoken all day, and Yusuke doesn’t know if he is more hurt by the question or the look of terror in his eyes.</p><p>It may be there one second and gone the next, but it is enough to punch the air right out of him, the notion that Akira wants him nowhere near him striking him a lot harder than he could have imagined. Is that really it, though? Is he not jumping to conclusions once again, making assumptions without concrete evidence? And yet, the dark circles under Akira’s eyes are undeniable, the strange sheen to them impossible to miss, and Yusuke cannot simply ignore it.</p><p>He adjusts his grip on the tray, making sure he doesn’t drop it.</p><p>“You were not answering your texts.” Yusuke says matter-of-factly, causing Akira to scramble for his phone, a curse muttered under his breath the moment he sees all the notifications flashing on his screen.</p><p>“S-sorry, I didn’t notice…” He breathes, his phone slipping from his grip as he seems to space out for a few beats before returning his gaze to Yusuke’s, his mouth curving into a smile that should have been reassuring but does nothing more than make him feel ill. “Is that for me? I’m not really hungry, though.”</p><p>“Boss said you have not eaten too.”</p><p>Akira flinches at the hardness of his voice, cowering slightly when Morgana turns to him as well. “Now that he mentions it, I didn’t see you eat lunch today either… Are you okay?”</p><p>“I’m fine.” Akira lifts his hands up defensively, the corners of his mouth curving further up and filling Yusuke with a pressing need to make them stop. Like the replicas in Madarame’s storage room, it looks so obviously fake, paling in comparison to the real thing, devoid of all emotion and beauty. “I think I might just be a little sick from some sort of bug. I’ll sleep it off.”</p><p>“Somehow, I am not convinced.” Yusuke admits, swallowing down the bitter bile on his tongue.</p><p>“Really, you don’t have to worry.” Akira reinforces, his lids falling closed as he lets out a heaving sigh. “Please don’t worry about me.”</p><p>“How can I not, Akira? You look…” <em>Like you are about to wither away…</em></p><p>“I’ll… I’ll try to eat, okay?”</p><p>Yusuke exchanges a glance with Morgana, stepping closer as Akira hangs his legs off the side of the bed, looking as if every little movement is agonising, the clench of his jaw making it seem as if he is biting back blood-curdling screams. Carefully, he places the tray over Akira’s lap, waiting for him to pick up the spoon and bring a bite of curry to his mouth, chewing slowly.</p><p>As Akira takes another spoonful, Yusuke considers finally being able to breathe a little easier, taking some comfort in the fact that he is at least trying to get some sort of nutrition. It might seem hypocritical of him to think that, given his own penchant to skip meals, yet he is struck with the thought that perhaps it is easier to care for others than oneself. Could that be why Akira seemed so distraught to see him, then? If so, it would make it no less upsetting, but he supposes he could understand the unwillingness to make others worry…</p><p>Still, it was Akira himself that made him realise he needed help in the first place. It would be utterly unbecoming of him to take Akira’s dismissals at face value when he himself had once been so adamant that nothing was wrong with him despite the obvious shortcomings of his life under Madarame’s so-called care.</p><p>The sound of shifting pulls Yusuke out of his musings, humming as he watches Akira place his basically untouched meal at the foot of the bed, not even done with the second bite. He opens his mouth to protest, thinking that he might go so far as begging to get him to eat some more, when he notices the sickly tint to his complexion, his skin shining with a layer of sweat as he brings a hand up to his mouth to muffle a gag.</p><p>“Akira!” Morgana jerks away when Akira dives off the bed to the bucket tucked underneath the TV stand, nearly knocking the water glass over on his way there.</p><p>Yusuke stands stunned as his friend hugs the bin and retches, the coughing loud and harsh to his ears against the deafening silence of the room from before. Akira’s entire body quakes with each new convulsion, sounding absolutely miserable as he gasps for breath whenever he is given a moment of respite, low whines tipping from his slick lips and tears staining salty tracks down his cheeks.</p><p>Snapping out of his shock, Yusuke takes the water and reaches for a towel laying forgotten on the sofa, crouching beside Akira’s hunched form and carefully wiping the sweat off his forehead, dabbing down his face, to his nape, as his friend rinses his mouth and takes a few sips before setting the cup aside. Then, just as he is about to reach the matted curls at the base of his neck, Akira tenses suddenly, a hiss blowing past his teeth, and his hand shoots up to grab at Yusuke’s wrist, stopping him from going any further.</p><p>“Th-that’s enough…” Akira tells him, his breaths laboured, his face paler than Yusuke has ever seen it. “I’m sorry you had to see that…”</p><p>“Akira…” Morgana saunters closer, blue eyes shining with concern that Yusuke no doubt mirrors in his own expression.</p><p>“Please, I don’t want… I just need to…”</p><p>His fingers twitch around Yusuke’s wrist, his grip loosening as he seems to lose his energy entirely, hand sliding away and falling limply at his side while he begins to sway. Yusuke drops the towel altogether, steadying Akira at his side and immediately regretting it when his friend cries out, eyes squeezing shut and teeth trapping his lower lip in a futile attempt to keep any other noises from slipping out. Akira leans onto his hands with a broken groan, head hanging and droplets of sweat staining the floorboards below him, and Yusuke’s eyes widen at the sight of purplish skin flowering from his collar, disappearing into his hairline.</p><p>Without warning, Akira lifts himself to his feet before he can figure out how to react, staring dumbfounded as he drags his feet back to the bed, on the verge of collapsing, looking closer to death than Yusuke would care to admit.</p><p>“I just need to sleep it off. Please, Yusuke, just go and don’t worry about me anymore.” Akira chokes, the effort it takes seeming painstaking, his entire posture screaming with anguish, with… with…</p><p>Yusuke moves without thinking, grabbing at Akira’s arms and forcing his back to the mattress, hands pinned above his head. Akira arches his back, a breathless whimper coming from deep in his chest as he writhes with the pain that likely spreads throughout him.</p><p>“Yusuke—” Akira squirms, trying to push him off but barely managing to so much as wiggle in his hold, even as he lets one of his hands go to bring it down to his stomach, tugging his uniform’s shirt up and exposing his navel. “Yusuke, stop—”</p><p>He does not stop. He cannot stop, the air leaving his lungs like he has been kicked right in the gut as he sees the angry red gashes on Akira’s torso, raw and tender and threatening infection, looking even worse when paired with the large contusions spread haphazardly around them. Yusuke’s blood runs cold, Morgana’s shocked exclamation barely heard underneath the loud beating of his heart, slamming against his chest so hard it is positively harrowing, not a shadow of doubt in his mind when he thinks it does not hold a candle to whatever Akira must be feeling.</p><p>“Yusuke, please, just—just let me—d-don’t look at me like that…” Akira murmurs, so quiet that Yusuke has to strain to hear him.</p><p>“Like what?”</p><p>“Like you care.” Akira answers, bringing his free arm to cover his face, lips pulled to a taut line before his lower one begins to tremble. “No one needs to care about me. No one needs to worry. I’ll be fine once… once I… Just let me go.”</p><p>“Never.” Yusuke growls, his eyes never leaving Akira’s expression even if he will not show it to him. “I will not let you carry on like this. Morgana, there was a doctor around here, right?”</p><p>“D-don’t—”</p><p>“She has a clinic nearby. I think it should still be open.”</p><p>“Get Futaba to call her here.”</p><p>“Roger that. Don’t let him do anything stupid.” Yusuke sees Morgana nod off the corner of his eye before jumping through the cracked window.</p><p>“Wait—” Akira reaches for him, flinching with yet another pained gasp before slumping into the mattress, completely worn and tattered, like his very will to keep going is dwindling. “I’m just tired… So tired…”</p><p>“Akira…” Yusuke whispers, leaning back and sitting on his ankles over Akira’s legs, letting go of his other arm at least, and returning his shirt to its rightful place. He is vulnerable enough.</p><p>With a stuttered breath, Akira runs both his hands down his face. “I’m sorry…”</p><p>“What are you apologising for?”</p><p>“Letting you see me like this… I should have just… d-d—”</p><p>Yusuke covers Akira’s mouth on instinct. He refuses to hear it, somehow knowing deep in his soul what it is he means to say. It is the furthest thing from the truth, and yet he cannot bring himself to tell him that, all manner of words dying on his tongue, strangling him as they get stuck in his throat and cut off his air supply entirely.</p><p>Akira’s resulting gasp tickles his palm, dark eyes staring up at him from between slender fingers as he spreads them just enough to allow it. They look so desolate, clouded by a grief that has no place being there at all, losing their shine little by little with each second that passes. It is painful, so unbearably painful. And Yusuke wants to stop it, to make it all go away, return the joy that seems to have been stolen to Akira’s soul.</p><p>Slowly, he lowers his hand, the tips of his fingers brushing over the curve of Akira’s parted lips, dancing down his chin, tracing a path down his throat and finally resting over his chest, over his heart, feeling its steady beats beneath it. It is not thumping wildly, not beating with a vigour that would ease Yusuke’s worries without even trying, but it is still strong, reaching for his hand time and time again without fail.</p><p>Their eyes do not stray from one another’s for a small eternity, nothing but Akira’s somewhat uneven breaths to fill the silence that settles between them. Yusuke’s words still escape him, though he wants to say something even if he is not quite sure what yet. His mind is filled with so many thoughts he has no clue on which to settle, unable to make sense of any of them to begin with. The only thing he is truly certain of is that he does not want Akira to go anywhere, he does not want him to stop looking at him, does not want to ever find his way out of his enticing gaze.</p><p>And when Akira glances to the side, his expression darkening once more, it is akin to what Yusuke imagines being shot through the heart might feel like. His lids fall closed and he exhales, something like a sigh but devoid of the emotion that might classify it as such. It is nothing but an empty breath, leaving him with no intent of returning.</p><p>But Yusuke will not have it, will not stand by watching as Akira lets go of everything with no fight left in him.</p><p>Life will breathe back into him if Yusuke has to be the one to make it.</p><p>Leaning down, Yusuke raises his hand back to Akira’s throat, tipping his chin upwards and taking his lips with his own, willingly letting his breath slip into his mouth when he sucks it in a small gasp. Akira opens his eyes then, wide and filled with astonishment, hands wrapping around the front of his shirt unsteadily. The grip feels stuck between an urge to push him away and something else entirely, and Yusuke simply moves to bury his fingers in Akira’s curls to bring his face closer, continue to offer him all the air left in his lungs until they burn with a need for oxygen of their own.</p><p>When he pulls back to recover, Akira’s mouth remains agape, lips quivering and gaze shimmering in the sunset’s glow. Some colour has returned to his cheeks, a faint pink sprinkled over them and crawling up to the tips of his ears, and Yusuke wishes he could feel his heartbeat again, wondering if it has become any stronger, urgent in its unyielding desire to keep Akira’s life going.</p><p>“You are my hope, Akira. I will not let you lose yours.” Yusuke declares, caressing Akira’s warm cheek gently in an attempt to convey his feelings, his own desire for him to remain by his side, never let himself stay down when he gets knocked off his feet.</p><p>Breath hitching, Akira leans into his touch, his lids fluttering in a way that is beyond enthralling, a breathy groan causing Yusuke’s heart to skip a beat at the lovely sound, carrying the cadence of a less daunting melody than the one that came before it. With shaky hands, Akira holds Yusuke’s own in place, choking on a sob that violently tears through him, and fat tears gathering at his lashes. The way they catch the light is unlike anything Yusuke has ever had the pleasure to lay eyes on, bathing Akira’s broken expression in hues of relief, even as the grief still twists his features, unforgiving.</p><p>Yusuke has never seen Akira look so vulnerable, so destroyed, and he is not entirely sure why a part of him wishes to see it again when it pains him so. Something about the intimacy of the moment, he takes it, the devastating privilege of being the one to witness someone who carries such strength fall apart at the seams, uncovering the flaws and imperfections that lie beneath the mask he often wears. It is selfish and perverse to keep that image close to his aching heart and holding it tightly, memorising every line, every splash of muted colour, and lay them out on the canvas within his mind.</p><p>But even so, he tells himself it is okay if he can be the one to pull Akira up from the depths of his despair and allow him to catch his breath before he drowns, hold him and not let him sink back down for as long as it takes him to be able to stand above the tides on his own.</p><p>“Yusuke…” Akira chokes, clenching his arm harder, rubbing his cheek against his palm then lowering it back down to his chest with a shuddering breath, staring up at the ceiling.</p><p>His heart is beating faster after all, Yusuke notes, like an energetic staccato that reverberates through him and begins to melt away the anxiety in his veins, even if only a little. Akira looks far from fine, despite his continued denials that nothing was even wrong, but Yusuke thinks maybe, just maybe, he has stepped a little further from the edge, closer to the safety of steady ground.</p><p>“I don’t really want to—to…” He trails off into a drawn-out exhale, his gaze focused on Yusuke’s, begging him to understand.</p><p>“I would not let you.” Yusuke promises, using the hand that is not trapped within Akira’s hold to brush some stray locks away from his weary face, adjusting them until they frame his features pleasantly, hiding nothing away from his observant stare.</p><p>“There’s something wrong with me, isn’t there?”</p><p>“You can overcome it. And you have me if you need someone to lean on.”</p><p>At that, Akira finally smiles for the first time since that fight, the curve to his lips small but genuine, and though it does not seem like he might just let his breaths die out any longer, Yusuke is once again overwhelmed with the sense that he should lean down and offer him as many as he needs to take. As if reading his strange thoughts, Akira reaches for him, bringing him close himself and lifting off the bed to meet him halfway.</p><p>It lasts no longer than a few seconds, a simple touch of their lips that leaves Yusuke wondering if it was useful at all, if he should not close the gap once again and prolong it until he cannot withstand it anymore, until he is completely out of breath and might just need to steal enough back from Akira to survive too. Part of him wants to continue that vicious cycle, even knowing it would be nonsensical, verging on insanity.</p><p>The clearing of a throat calls for Yusuke’s attention before he can make sense of that thought, and he straightens slightly, turning towards the stairs to see the strange doctor Akira befriended sometime in the beginning of the year. She waves a hand at them in a semblance of a greeting, flashing them a half-hearted grin that seems to hide a message he is unable to decipher. Behind her, Futaba peeks shyly, her brow furrowed in ill-concealed worry while Morgana climbs onto the table beside them, tilting his head.</p><p>“I heard someone called for a doctor.”</p><p>“Akira is not feeling well.” Yusuke offers his poor explanation, sliding away from Akira’s loose hold and climbing off the bed to let the young woman get closer.</p><p>At the very least, Akira does not argue any further, does not try push her and everyone else away to be swallowed by the darkness hanging above his head alone. Right now, Yusuke thinks he can see light shining through the pitch-black aura that surrounds him, weak as it may be… a ray of hope that lingers and perseveres, striving to return to its former glory. It is progress, he supposes, allowing himself to release some of the tension in his shoulders.</p><p>“I’m going to need some privacy to examine him, if that’s okay.” The doctor requests and Yusuke hesitates, looking into Akira’s eyes and searching for a sign that it might be all right to leave his side.</p><p>That small smile returns to his face, wrinkling the corners of his eyes ever so slightly, and Yusuke finally feels a bit of the suffocating weight lift from his chest.</p><p>“I’ll keep an eye on him.” Morgana adds in reassurance, padding over to the bedside with a high-pitched <em>nyan</em> that sounds a little too forced for any of the ones present to take it seriously, even if it is only for the woman’s sake.</p><p>With one last nod, a wordless vow that he will not go very far written in his eyes, Yusuke takes the tray still by the bed and meets Futaba by the stairs, walking to one of the booths with her on his tail.</p><p>“Inari, will Joker be okay?”</p><p>“Yes.” Yusuke replies immediately, not daring to let a single hint of hesitation slip through. “I will make sure of it.”</p><p>Futaba bites on her bottom lip for a moment, trying to decipher his expression before letting out a tiny sigh. “I should’ve noticed he was acting out of character… He’s usually quiet, but not… that gloomy.”</p><p>“I believe Akira was hiding it as well, subconsciously or otherwise, so do not put too much blame on yourself.” Though, he himself feels he bears some responsibility for not pressing him further the day before, for not trusting his instinct.</p><p>The sound of porcelain on well-worn wood draws Yusuke’s eyes to Sojiro’s hard expression, a cup of coffee placed in front of him. He doesn’t really say anything, simply moving to a recently emptied table to lift the dirty plates and ducking into the kitchen with Akira’s abandoned tray as he and Futaba watch silently.</p><p>“The lady doctor was already on her way here by the time Mona got me out the house, you know. Sojiro really worries for him too…”</p><p>Yusuke hums in agreement, wrapping his fingers around the cup’s handle and bringing it to his lips. They sit in silence like this for what feels like forever, waiting patiently even if no less nervously for time to finally pass, for anything to finally change. Eventually, Sojiro closes Leblanc to the public, he goes home, and Futaba follows, yet Yusuke remains, elbows resting over the table and fingers interlaced in front of his face. He stares blankly ahead, picturing Akira’s earlier smiles and letting them placate his frantic thoughts.</p><p>So much time passes that his muscles start feeling stiff, his empty stomach complaining, his head aching, his lids closing. But Yusuke dares not move, waiting for the moment he can return to Akira’s side and confirm with his very own eyes that he has told Futaba no filthy lies born out of his own foolish desires.</p><p>No, Akira’s eyes had been honest then, unlike the times before.</p><p>“Hey, kid.” A voice startles him from the depths of his mind, footsteps getting closer before a gentle hand places over his shoulder for a passing pat, the doctor’s back to him as she simply continues on her way. “Take good care of him, will you? I’ve done what I can, the rest’s up to someone like you.”</p><p>Not really waiting for Yusuke to process that, let alone say anything to it, she walks out the door without another word, the bell jingling as it always does, unperturbed. Snapping to his senses, he gets to his feet, heading up the stairs and finding Akira carefully pulling a loose shirt over his head, letting it fall over his now bandaged torso softly. His breaths still sound a little short and he looks about ready to keel over. But he turns to face Yusuke with a tired little quirk to his lips anyway, sinking onto the bed heavily and causing Morgana to jump with the bounce of the mattress.</p><p>He whines at Akira, grumbling about being disturbed as he moves to the sofa instead, curling up comfortably.</p><p>“Are you feeling better?”</p><p>“A little. Not much, if I’m honest… Everything hurts and I still want to sleep forever.” Akira admits, seemingly ashamed of his words but not trying to hide them any longer. “But I also want to wake up at some point too. If that makes sense.”</p><p>“I would say so.” Yusuke nods, tentatively taking a few steps further inside.</p><p>Akira hums, running a hand over the back of his neck, hissing slightly at the tenderness of the bruise still marring his skin. Of course, it would not magically heal over the time the doctor worked to treat his more pressing wounds, but Yusuke still finds himself wishing it may have.</p><p>“You can… go home if you want. I will be fine, eventually.”</p><p>“Despair is a terrifying affliction.” Yusuke relays that day’s earlier thoughts, walking the remaining distance and sitting beside Akira then taking his hand with the utmost care to wrap it in his own, feeling his warmth. “And I know that when I was drowning in my own, it was even more painful to be alone.”</p><p>“Oi, I’m right here.” Morgana shoots immediately, offended.</p><p>“I did not mean to imply you are not adequate company, my apologies.”</p><p>Akira chuckles, and though it may be short lived and rather weak, it colours the entire room with a soft joy that Yusuke takes a moment to savour. “Then, if it’s okay for me ask this… Would you please stay with me.”</p><p>“Of course.”</p><p>Breathing out a word of gratitude, Akira leans into Yusuke’s shoulder, eyelids drooping closed shortly after. Before he can think of what else to say, which of the unfamiliar feelings bubbling in his chest to voice, he notices Akira’s steadying breaths, soft and even, and he bites his tongue. Slowly and with as steady hands as he can manage, Yusuke shifts Akira to the bed, pulling the covers over him and sitting back down by his feet, a hand still resting over one of his legs so that he knows, even as he sleeps, he is right there, and not going anywhere.</p><p>“You know,” Morgana murmurs, his eyes shining with fondness, “Akira is one lucky guy.”</p><p>Yusuke hums inquisitively, unsure of how exactly this situation might translate to good luck, but Morgana does not elaborate any further, simply lowering his head and stretching his front paws lazily, his eyes closing. Figuring he will get no answers even if he tries to question him further, Yusuke resigns to his silence as not to disturb Akira, running his fingers through his hair with a long exhale.</p><p>At some point, he must have immersed himself in the quietude of the room, picturing images of peace in his mind’s eye where negative emotions had no place at all, expansions of tranquillity spreading across a canvas and lulling him to a sense of contentment. Because when his lids flutter open next, unsure of when he had even closed them in the first place, Yusuke finds himself lying on his side across Akira’s mattress, warm breath tickling his cheeks and a nose brushing against his own, while slender fingers twitch around the fabric of his shirt over his chest.</p><p>In a sleep-filled haze, Yusuke drapes his arm over Akira’s waist, pulling him closer and revelling in his gentle warmth against the slight chill of the room. Absently, he thinks that perhaps it would be wise to tug the covers to them, especially since Akira is still vulnerable, his health compromised, but he can only bring himself to hold him tighter, share whatever body heat he can provide with his embrace. Even if it would just be for a moment, letting go feels like absolute torture. And when Akira shifts slightly, snuggling even further into him with a satisfied little noise, Yusuke takes that as reassurance that it may just be enough for him for now.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>As always, thank you so much for reading and feel free to leave any comments you may have! You can find me on tumblr <a href="https://crzangel.tumblr.com/">@crzangel</a> and on twitter <a href="https://twitter.com/CrzAngel96">@CrzAngel96!</a></p></blockquote></div></div>
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